Sitting by the smudged window in the maidservants’ chambers, watching carriages and wagons roll slowly along the rural cobblestone paths, she contemplated her fate. Packed bags and sacks full of her clothing, her effects - those same sacks that she had arrived with, soaking-wet in the pouring rain - lay gathered around her chair while she recalled that trudge through a darkened, mired storm. It felt like it had been so long ago, and she had learned so much about herself since then. She had learned she wasn’t the chaste creature she thought she could be, so easily - she had learned so many dark things about herself that the duke she had started to fall in love with brought so proudly out of her.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I’m still quite puzzled,” Agatha asked, arms crossed atop her chest as she watched clouds begin to gather over the moor. Caravans and commoners hurried along the paths; gray midday clouds blotted out the sun, and thunder rumbled a muffled noise in the distance. Soon it’d be raining, and Audrey would leave the McClellan estate similar to how she had arrived - save for the extra heartbreak.
“I... I have my reasons,” Audrey’s voice quavered. She didn’t want to leave. But she knows she has to.
“What reasons are those?” Agatha asked, insistent. Audrey had discussed leaving with Agatha after the day in the foyer. She knew she couldn’t stand to stay here - with a man she loved, but could never truly be with.
“Why do you insist on pressing her? I’m sure she has good reasons. Hasn’t she?” Ana stalked her way into the maidservant’s quarters; her very presence brought a dark cloud over Audrey’s heart, her eyes downcast and her hands shaking. She fought back tears as Ana loomed closer, her expression rough and wicked. “Hasn’t she?”
“And what business is this of yours?” Agatha bellowed angrily. “You’d been the woman complaining about too much to do around the house, before Audrey arrived. Yet you seem quite amused by her sudden and unexpected departure. Perhaps I ought to wonder what sort of hand you had in it,” Agatha’s eyes narrowed, anger seething through them as Ana approached.
“What hand I had in it? What makes you think I had any hand in it?” Ana played innocent.
“That smug smirk on your face tells me a whole lot, woman,” Agatha rumbled, squaring up with the much smaller, intimidated Ana.
“S-mug?! Agatha, I put up with quite a lot from you, but—” Ana stuttered.
“Perhaps something to do with that conversation I happened upon, but a week ago?” Agatha retorted, rage bubbling up. “Perhaps I should’ve been the one doing the smacking.”
“Agatha— please,” Audrey begged meekly, feeling the tears start to fill her eyes. “I don’t... don’t want this to happen. You still have... to work together, with Ana,” she sighed. Smugly Ana took a step back from Agatha, sneering.
“I don’t smack,” Agatha warned, still standing tense and staring at Ana. “You’re lucky, for that. That I would never strike my girls.”
“Good,” Ana snarled. “I came by for a reason, you know. The duke - he wants to speak with Audrey before she leaves. She needed me to let you know,” Ana smirked, giving that knowing glare to Audrey. “Your last conversation with him... it feels so surreal, doesn’t it?” Ana’s devious voice sizzled in self-satisfaction. Audrey’s heart thumped. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t even want to see him again - it felt too painful, knowing she had to leave. For his sake - and for her own.
“Yes,” Audrey nodded, crestfallen, to Ana, who put on a snotty, facetious smile.
“He’s up in his bedchamber,” Ana said. “You should hurry, yes? Your carriage will be arriving soon. To take you back to the city. For good,” Ana spoke coldly.
“Y... yes,” Audrey admitted. That quiet ‘yes’ told Ana all she wanted to know, and her evil smile grew. Audrey sucked back her tears and dragged her feet through the foyer, taking step after painful step one at a time through the hall. Face to face with the door to his bedchambers, memories rocked her mind - memories once so pleasing and idyllic, but now memories to be swept away; forgotten in shame. Memories she can never relive. Memories of how she let herself fall in love with someone who could never truly love her back - memories, now evidence against her, by that wicked Ana.
She rapped softly on the door. Little strength remained in her limbs. She hadn’t slept in days. She wanted to load herself into the carriage and sleep for hours on the ride to London, though she knew all she would likely accomplish on the ride back is a long, painful cry.
The door opened; the duke looked out, his eyes tired and wary; a dusting of stubble spackled across his chin. He examined Audrey, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. Muddled light poured into the bedchambers; she could see it hadn’t been tended in the entire week they had been separated from one another. Sheets lay in a messy bundle; chairs sat askew, clothing strewn across the Persian rugs.
“Ms. Fisher,” he acknowledged her coldly. Thunder rumbled louder, and the soft patter of raindrops against the estate’s roof and windows started at an unsteady, jostling pace. “Agatha informed me today will be the day that you leave the estate. Is that true?” Audrey swiped a stream of tears from her cheek; seeing his gorgeous face, so stricken with pain - the same pain she carried - forced her to crack. Tears s
treamed heavier, faster; she pulled a handkerchief from her apron, using it to sponge away reddening streams of melancholy.
“Y... yes, today, today’s the... the day, m’lord,” she nodded. “I... Agatha, and Ana, and the other girls, are more than capable of... of filling the gap, until you can find so... someone else to come on-board with the staff.”
“Okay,” he answered, his voice cold and rigid; not that smooth and seductive tone he had taken with her in their first encounter; not the steamy and dominating tone that could reduce her to smoldering, sexy embers in an instant. She had never heard this side of him - and she interpreted that it was a voice of true hurt. Real pain.
“I... I should get ready to go, here... my carriage to London should be arriving,” Audrey said with a long sniffle.
“A storm is coming,” the duke commented in a distant voice. “The ride could be rough. Dangerous. Keep yourself together.” They stood awkwardly; neither wanted to look at the other. Pain seethed in Audrey’s nerves every time she dared look at his face; dirty, his hair matted, the stubble so uncharacteristic. She thought to reach out to him. That he hurt just as much as she did, over this.
“O... okay,” Audrey responded, breaking a moment of tense and confused silence. Was that all he had left to say to her? She didn’t want to believe it was. She wanted him to embrace her; for all of this to go away, but as long as the duchess and Ana existed in the duke’s life - and as long as he stayed the Duke of McClellan - she could only watch, and she could only cry.
“Your carriage is arriving,” he murmured, watching the rain start to pick up; lightning flashed through the windows, and the clop-clop of horse hooves echoed beneath the rain’s patter, as the vehicle approached the front door. “You should go down. Now,” he exhaled sharply, before slamming the door shut. Audrey blinked, shock in her nerves. Not a kiss... not a hug. Not even a goodbye. She’d leave behind the man who had claimed her virginity and who had taught her what it was to feel like a woman, without even a parting word.
“I love you,” she mouthed silently, staring at the door as the tears flowed freely. Footfalls creaked up the stairs behind her.
“Audrey, dear?...” catching the girl crying, concern crossed Agatha’s face, and she rushed to cradle the maidservant gently in her arms. “Audrey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“Everything happened, everything that shouldn’t have happened,” Audrey admitted weakly, the sobs throbbing painfully in her voice. “The duke, the duchess... I got in the middle of a mess, and Ana—” she stopped herself with a sniffle. “I... I shouldn’t. I just need t... to get out of the estate, Ms. Agatha. I’m sorry for letting you down.” The old woman’s face twisted, stony; she deciphered the story in her mind, shaking her head sagely.
“You have nothing to feel bad about. I’ve never seen the duke like this, and—”